One Choice
by ReelTreble
Summary: What if Sheriff Stilinski woke up with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach the morning of Stiles' Winter Formal? What if that feeling prompted him to go searching for his son right after his talk with Jackson? How differently would things have gone if the sheriff had found Peter and Stiles in that parking garage? What if Code Breaker went differently?
1. Chapter 1

Hi all! I recently found this amazing fandom called Teen Wolf, and it quickly took over my life. Haha! As I was re-watching the first season an idea came to me: what would happen if one thing went differently in the episode Code Breaker? This is what came from that thought.

The story will only be about two chapters long and will make use of dialogue from the show. No copyright infringement was intended. This story is purely made for entertainment purposes! Also there is slightly bad language, but nothing that wouldn't already been found on the show.

I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Chapter One

Running his hands through his hair Sheriff Stilinski sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. Another animal attack had just been called in. This time a young girl was attacked on the school's lacrosse field. The same lacrosse field his son played on regularly…well the same lacrosse field his son sat on the bench regularly. Stepping into the elevator John's mind went once again to the unsettled feeling that he had been dealing with all day. Watching the floor numbers light up above the steel doors the sheriff's fingers twitched by his pocket, itching to call Stiles to make sure he was okay. However, before he could pull out his phone the decision was made for him as the elevator doors opened with a ding. Pushing his fatherly instincts aside John slipped easily into sheriff mode and strode with purpose to the first doctor he saw.

Sheriff Stilinski absorbed all the information the doctor could give him with stoic professionalism. His demeanor only changing slightly when he found out the girl's name. The victim, Lydia Martin, was a name he was very familiar with. Since Stiles came home one day in the third grade completely enamored by the green eyed girl, the name Lydia Martin was uttered at least once a day in their household. Once again the sheriff's fingers itched for his phone weighing heavily in his pocket, but he knew he had a job to do first.

After speaking with the doctor John relayed the information to one of his best deputies Aaron Brooks. Just as the sheriff was finishing up his orders the elevator doors opened to reveal Lydia's known boyfriend Jackson Whittemore. The person who called the attack in.

Grabbing ahold of Jackson's shoulder Sheriff Stilinski quietly uttered. "Hey." However, when it became apparent that the teenager was trapped in a daze John spoke more forcefully. "Hey! What the Hell happened to that girl?"

Jackson's eyes bounced around frantically never settling on one thing in particular. "I…I don't know. I went out looking for her-"

"What you just happen to wander into the middle of that field and you just found her there like that?! Don't lie to me, Son." The sheriff practically growled. His patience thinner than usual.

Eyes wide with fear or possible shock Jackson scrambled to answer. "No I wou-" The young man began but was effectively cutoff by John gathering the shoulders of Jackson's suit jacket and pushing him up against the wall just behind them.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?!"

"THIS ISN'T MY FAULT!"

"SHE'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND!" The Sheriff continued to yell, indicating with a tilt of his head towards the room Lydia was resting in. "THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY!"

"No she's not! Okay she didn't go to the formal with me." Jackson shot back, his voice lowering, but instantly regretting his words.

"Then who'd she go with?" John asked in a much quieter voice as the uneasy feeling assaulting his stomach intensified.

Jackson swallowed before asking in an almost apologetic tone. "Do you really want to know?" The teen's light blue eyes flickered over the sheriff's face. "She went with Stiles."

John's heart faltered. "What?" The word coming out unsteady, betraying his concern.

"Stiles took her." Jackson answered back in a whisper.

The sheriff released his hold on the teenage boy and stepped back in disbelief. In a slight daze John turned back to Brooks and instantly told him to get a BOLO out on Stiles' and his jeep. "You let me know the moment anyone sees him!"

The dark-haired deputy paused in his note taking and looked up at his boss inquisitively. "Stiles? Why?"

"That girl in there was my son's date to the dance and he isn't here. On its own maybe that wouldn't be too suspicious, but since my son has been obsessed with that very girl for years, and he still isn't here then something or someone is keeping him from being here. We have to find him. I want him found now!" As John spoke he twisted the wedding ring on his finger. A nervous habit he developed when his wife first fell ill that stuck with him all these years.

"You got it, Sir. I'll let you know the second anything comes up."

"Thank you, Brooks." Letting out a shaky breath with energy draining John turned slowly with worried eyes to look at Lydia's resting and pale form. Whispering to himself, "Somebody better find my son."

* * *

The squealing of tires bounced off the walls of an underground parking garage as the light blue jeep came to a halt. "Great. Here we are…in a creepy parking garage." Stiles mumbled to himself, clenching the steering wheel of his beloved jeep to stop the sudden shaking of his hands as he breathed out quietly.

Peter Hale eyed the teen's hands and smirked. "Get out."

Grinding his teeth Stiles started toward the door but hesitated suddenly with his hand hovering over the handle. "Why a parking garage? I mean it is very villain cliché and everything, but-"

"Get out of the car, Stiles." Peter continued patiently.

"Right of course, but it just doesn't seem like the best place-"

"There isn't a heartbeat anywhere nearby which means…no will be able to hear you scream." Peter's lips stretched into a predatory smile; his fangs sliding out and the color of his eyes shifting to red.

Stiles' heart-rate spiked with fright and his chest tightened, as the all too familiar feeling of an oncoming panic attack tried to take hold.

However, before the panic attack had a chance to fully begin Peter spoke again. This time chuckling lightly. "Stiles, I'm kidding. Now get out of the car or I'll pull you out."

The pale teen gawked at the werewolf in astonishment mouth hanging open slightly before shaking his head and exiting the jeep. By the time Stiles was slamming the door closed Peter was already standing next to him. Startled, Stiles stepped back on instinct but didn't get far as the Alpha swiftly took hold of the back of the boy's white dress shirt.

"Hey!" Stiles shouted indignantly.

Peter ignored the young teen's protests and calming manhandled him towards a dark car parked down only a few meters.

"Whose car is this?" Stiles asked his voice filled with confusion.

The werewolf released his hold on his captive's shirt and began fiddling with a set of keys. "It belonged to my nurse."

Curiosity won out over fear as Stiles felt the need to ask, "What happened to your nur-"

With ease Peter opened the trunk revealing the dead corpse of his nurse next to a grey bag.

"Oh, my God!" The teenager stared in horror at the body carelessly thrown in the trunk. His heart hammering in his chest. He didn't even remove his gaze as the alpha thrust the bag from the trunk into his arms.

Noticing his captive's distraction Peter looked back and forth between Stiles and his nurse and callously stated, "I got better." Before slamming the trunk closed once more.

Without warring the alpha yanked the bag from Stiles' hands and began unloading it. The pale teenager watched his captor while trying to calm his buzzing nerves, and when he saw the werewolf pull out a laptop he easily fell back on his sarcastic defense mechanism.

"Good luck getting a signal down here." Stiles commented defiantly.

Without missing a beat Peter handed Stiles a small device.

"Oh MiFi." Stiles said in disappointment when he realized what the werewolf handed him, heart sinking. "And you're a Mac guy." He said shaking his head slightly in frustration as Peter booted up his Mac. Annoyed the teen continued. "Does that go for all werewolves or is that just a personal preference?"

The alpha werewolf stepped back and gave Stiles an unamused look, tiling his head slightly in warning. "Turn it on. Get connected." He ordered coolly.

Breaths coming in short pants, Stiles racked his brain for anything he could say or do to get out of this situation. Coming up empty the young teen resigned himself to the fact that he would just have to what he was order. "You know you're really killing the whole werewolf mystic thing here."

Leaning forward Stiles began setting up the MiFi when an idea struck him. Clearing his throat Stiles sent a silent prayer that this would work. "Look you still need Scott's username and password, and I'm sorry but I don't know them." He said with as much conviction as he could gather.

The words were barely out of his mouth when Peter contradicted them. "You know both of them."

Somewhat annoyed by the, albeit accurate, claim, Stiles pushed on with his play forcefully. "No I don't."

Peter leaned in closer. "Even if I couldn't hear your heartbeat. I would still be able to tell that you're lying."

"Dude I swear to God-"

In a flash of sudden movement Peter gripped Stiles by the back of the head and slammed his face onto the trunk of the car. Stiles grunted in discomfort, and tried to breathe through the painful sting radiating from the impact to his cheek. Stunned still, and painfully aware of the unbreakable grip holding him in place, Stiles ground his teeth to keep from making a comment that would only anger the werewolf further.

Agonizingly slow Peter leaned in close to Stiles' face and spoke once again in a steady and calm voice. "I can be very persuasive, Stiles. Don't make me persuade you."

Closing his eyes tightly, Stiles tried to swallow the fear threatening to suffocate him.

* * *

"Sheriff! We just got a hit on Stiles' jeep! Someone saw your son's jeep turning into a parking garage on Hillcrest Road." Brooks said in a rush.

John listened to his deputy, all-the-while a feeling in his gut telling him he had to hurry. "Are they sure it's Stiles' jeep?"

Brooks face fell immediately into an intense worried expression. "The witness said they saw Stiles driving and they think, but aren't entirely sure, that another man was sitting in the passenger seat with him."

Before John could say anything another of his deputies came running towards him. She was a relatively new hire but was smarter than most, and quickly took to Stiles. One of the only deputies that could handle Stiles' frenzied energy all day and not complain one bit.

The young blond woman stopped next to the two slightly out-of-breath. "Sheriff Stilinski! I was just talking to one of the staff about how I was worried about a friend of mine being missing…Stiles. And she said one of their nurses has gone missing as well. I didn't think much of it until she told me the nurse was the primary caregiver for a burn victim named Peter Hale, who it turns out is also missing. I remembered you had been looking into the Hale fire recently and I thought it might be relevant."

The puzzle pieces began forming in his head, making John certain this Peter Hale was somehow responsible for the recent deaths happening in Beacon Hills. The sheriff's chest tightened as his mind caught up to the situation fully. This possible murderer was most likely with his son at this very moment. What did he want with Stiles? How did his son get caught up in all this? Whatever the answers John knew they had to move quickly.

"Yes I think you're right, Deidra. Can you get me a picture of Peter Hale? We'll need one to confirm it's him with Stiles when we find them."

The blond swiftly nodded her head in the affirmative and ran off to fulfill the request. John watched her go for a moment taking a deep breath to settle his emotions. "Gather a couple of deputies and get ready to leave for the garage as soon as we have that picture."

"Yes Sir."

* * *

Stiles looked down at his now useless keys before noticing Peter making his way to the driver's side of his nurse's car. "So you're not gonna kill me?"

The alpha werewolf turned back and Stiles' stomach dropped. "Oh God." The pale teen sputtered as he stumbled back a step.

"Don't you understand yet? I'm not the bad guy here." Peter spoke in a light voice, conviction in his words bleeding through.

Stiles scoffed. "You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs, and you're **not** the bad guy here?"

Exhaling Peter looked at the dark-haired teen with interest. "I like you Stiles."

Clearly upset, Stiles shook his head at the alpha's words. A cold feeling washing over him as his need to get away increased rapidly. The teenager just knowing this line of conversation wasn't heading in a direction he wanted.

Peter didn't see Stiles' action or didn't care, and just continue speaking. "Since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return."

Whiskey-colored eyes connected with Peter's cold ones, guarded with clear unease.

"Do you want the bite?"

* * *

The Sheriff and his three deputies crept slowly into the bottom level of the parking garage, following the quiet voices echoing off the concrete walls. Taking cover behind a pillar, John peeked carefully around the solid object, but the sight that greeted him almost made his knees buckle beneath him.

Stiles stood only an arm's length away from the man who the sheriff quickly identified as Peter Hale. Hale held his son's wrist in a tight grip up near his mouth, causing a sick feeling to pool in the pit of John's stomach. Just as the sheriff was about to run to his son's aid, not giving a damn about procedure, Stiles yanked his hand free. A small part of the sheriff felt relief as he watched his son taking small measured steps away from his captor. He only needed him to move away just a little bit more and then he could make his move. However, the relief John felt was short-lived as Peter countered each of Stiles' steps only moments later.

Straining his ears the older Stilinski tried to hear what was being said. "Do you know what I heard just then? Your heart beating slightly faster over the words 'I don't want.' You may believe that you're telling me the truth, but you are lying to yourself."

Not being able to stand it anymore Sheriff Stilinski motioned for his deputies to follow him and leapt from his hiding spot. "Peter Hale! This is The Beacon Hills County Sheriff's Department! Step away from the young man and slowly raise your hands where we can see them!" John Stilinski's commanding voice sounded firmly.

Both Peter and Stiles' heads snapped to the other side of the quiet parking garage where the sheriff stood flanked by three of his deputies; all armed.

The oldest surviving hale smiled brightly. "Well would you look at that. Daddy came to the rescue. I must say I'm impressed, Sheriff. Your response time was much better than I was expecting, and you even figured out who I am. I'm guessing you haven't figured out the **how** though." The oldest Hale taunted lazily.

"Dad-" Stiles started but was interrupted by Peter.

"What do you say, Stiles? Should we tell Daddy what's going on here?" Peter asked his captive moving in closer to the teenager. "Maybe we should tell him where your buddy Scott is right now? Huh?" He finished in a whisper while emphasizing his words with a wink.

The Sheriff took a cautious step forward his aim never wavering from the danger standing just in front of his son. "Don't you dare talk to my hear me?! You want to say something then you can say it to me. Now put your hands up and step back!"

Stiles felt sick. He looked frantically between his father and the dangerous werewolf. His mind racing for a solution to this disastrous situation, but every thought in his mind was screaming at him to get his dad away. "Dad…you…you don't understand…please." Taking a few small steps towards his father Stiles continued in a shaky voice. "Dad please just…just go. You need to leave. It's not safe."

Confusion passed over John's face with his son's pleading words, but he didn't have time to think about the meaning behind them as Peter moved closer to Stiles, hand reaching out.

"Take one more step towards my son and I will put a bullet between your eyes, Hale." John threatened tightening his grip on his weapon.

Peter hummed and widened his smile, clearly enjoying every second of the situation. "I'd really like to see you try, Sheriff." The werewolf emphasized his threat with glowing red eyes, snatching Stiles' arm and pulling the teen to his chest faster than human sight could follow.

Stiles yelped in surprise and pain as his arm was wrenched painfully back. Struggling instantly in panic the teen tried to get free from the crushing grip. "NO, let me go! AAH!"

Breathing in deeply Peter closed his eyes briefly in pleasure. "Do you know what my favorite scent is?"

When no response was given Peter let his claws slowly extend, piercing the delicate flesh of Stiles' upper arm. The werewolf waited until the young man inhale sharply in discomfort before continuing in a singsong manner. "Stiles?"

The teen turned his terrified honey-brown eyes to connect with his father's worried ones as he answered his captor resolutely. "No."

Peter's cold gaze moved from the side of Stiles' face, sweeping over the police officers, and finally settling on John. "Fear is my absolute favorite scent. It has such a lovely smell to it; it's intoxicating. And do you know what, Sheriff? Your son smells overwhelmingly…deliciously of fear, but what's interesting is that it's not fear for himself, which it should be. No it's fear for you."

Stiles started to struggle again as he spoke in a rush of words. "Peter please…don't hurt him. He has absolutely nothing to do with any of this. If you want to take me…fine. Just don't hurt my dad."

John's heart clenched tightly in his chest as he watched his son bargain for his life with no regard for his own. The only other time John felt as helpless as he did now was watching his wife slowly deteriorate in a hospital bed. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to lose another person he loved. No! He would not let that happen! He couldn't lose Stiles. "Stiles, look at me!"

Obediently, his son's watery and desperate gaze found his. In that moment the sheriff was not looking into the eyes of his teenage son but of his little boy, pleading for his mother to come back home, looking to his father to make the nightmares go away. So he smiled confidently, even-though he couldn't feel any farther from confident at the moment. "Don't worry, Kiddo. Everything is going to be okay. Alright?"

"Dad, you don't understand. Please just go…I can't lose you too." Stiles said desperately a few tears slowly trailing down his mole dotted face.

"Now you listen to me, Stiles. I'm not going anywhere. We made a promise. Remember? We're gonna take care of each other; look out for each other. Right? I'm going to get you home. Nothing is going to happen to either of us." John promised passionately and stepped closer to his son and the man holding him captive with each sentence.

"As entertaining as this is I have somewhere to be, as you know, Stiles." Peter said smirking.

John's grip tightened once more on his firearm. His knuckles turning white with the strain. "You're not going anywhere."

"Oh, but I think I am." The alpha werewolf sprang into action, tossing Stiles back against the dark car, and viciously lunging for the officers.

Stiles' body slammed loudly against the car before falling heavily to the ground on his side. Crying out in pain the young teen wrapped his arm protectively around his middle, gripping his side with a shaking hand in an attempt to numb the radiating agony there. The feeling of sharp needles stabbing his side intensified with each breath the teen took, and he knew without a doubt that at least one of his ribs was broken. Blinking away the dark spots in his vision, Stiles looked to the last place he saw his father.

"No." The young man sobbed brokenly. His sight blurred with tears as he crawled to his dad's side, pain ripping through his body the whole way.

Sheriff Stilinski laid unmoving on the cold ground blood lazily sliding down the side of his face from a deep gash above his temple. The moment Stiles reached his father he searched for a pulse, and exhaled in relief when he quickly found a strong thumping beneath his fingertips. Scanning his dad for any other injuries the teenager thankfully found none, but as his deep honey-colored eyes lifted he recoiled at Brooks' lifeless gaze staring back at him. Swallowing a sudden burning in his throat Stiles looked carefully over the other deputies that came to rescue him and felt like breaking down then and there. None of the other deputies were moving, but he couldn't tell for sure if they still lived or not.

"Get up, Stiles." Peter commanded from the opposite side of the sheriff's prone form.

The young man squeezed his eyes closed, willing this nightmare away. But when he opened them again Peter Hale, malicious alpha werewolf, and all around psychopath, was still towering over him and his unconscious dad. "Just leave us alone. I did everything you asked! You know where Derek is. You don't need me anymore!"

The oldest surviving Hale knelt down to be eye level with his prey. "Thanks to daddy dearest here, Scott undoubtable is already with my nephew, and mostly likely poisoning him against me. I now need a contingency plan, and that's where you come in."

Stiles' fingers curled unconsciously into his father's uniform for support. "What are you going to do?" The teen hesitantly asked in a voice just above a whisper.

Peter grinned, and straightened his body, before moving to the dark-haired teenager's side. Stiles' heart hammered in his chest as frantic thoughts raced through his mind.

The boy flew into a full blow panic when the werewolf's clawed hand gripped his upper arm. "No…no… **no**! Leave me alone! Peter STOP! Oh God! I…I can't leave my dad like this!" Stiles shouted while he was literally dragged from his father's side towards Peter's nurse's car.

They reached the passenger side of the car and Peter pushed Stiles up against the unrelenting metal to open the door. "Let…let me call an ambulance. Please, I…I'll come with you. Otherwise, I swear to God you will regret taking me. I won't shut up, even for a second. And I could do it you know. I could talk and talk and talk. Drive you even more out of your mind then you already are, I swear."

When Peter still didn't look swayed, Stiles used the door opening as a distraction. Slamming his elbow into the side of the alpha's face to knock him aside Stiles bolted towards his dad's radio. Knowing he wouldn't be able to out run a supernatural creature Stiles' only goal was to call for help to come for his dad. However, just as his slender fingers grazed the hard plastic of the radio, pain exploded in Stiles' side, and his breath was stolen from his lungs.

"AAH!" The young man cried out and struggled sluggishly in the werewolf tight grip around his middle. Thrashing to no avail Stiles' watched his father got farther and farther away from him, knowing he failed to protect him. Knowing he failed to call for help. Tears fell from his eyes as the young man realized this was probably going to be the last time he ever saw his dad.

Defeated, Stiles stopped fighting and glared at Peter with all the hatred he felt. "You're a monster. No matter what you want to say about how you're only punishing those responsible for the fire, it's not true. You're a liar. My dad didn't do anything. Deputy Brooks didn't do anything. You said I was the one lying to myself, but that's **you**."

Peter Hale didn't say a word as he yanked open the passenger door and shoved Stiles inside. He didn't say anything as he took both of the abused teen's wrist in hand and snapped his own father's handcuffs securely in place. Nor did he speak when he loudly slammed the door closed, trapping the young man inside. And he decidedly didn't say anything as he took Stiles' cell phone he had confiscated early out of his pocket, dialed 911, dropped the objected to the ground as it connected, and jumped into the car before speeding away with screeching tires.

* * *

End of chapter one. Please review and let me know what you thought of the first chapter. Feedback is always appreciated! What do you think will happen next? How will it all end? Thank you so much for reading! Until next time...


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again everyone. I am completely thrilled by all the positive feedback I received from the first chapter! Thank you to everyone that took the time to read and review! Your support and kind words are truly appreciated. Also a big thank you to all those who added me as an author and this story to their follow alerts and favorite lists! You're all amazing! Enjoy chapter two!

* * *

Chapter Two

The blaring sound of sirens pulled John rudely from unconsciousness. Cracking one eyelid open the injured sheriff felt a spike of agony shoot through his head. Squeezing his eye closed once more the pain ebbed to a continuous throbbing instead. Grunting, Sheriff Stilinski brought his hand slowly to his temple, hoping to dull some of the aching there, only to have it meet wetness. Pulling his hand away John willed his eyes open, despite the pain, and stared in a sort of daze at the deep crimson coating his fingertips. With incredibly unfocused eyes the sheriff searched his surroundings, a tight fear gripping at his heart. He took note of the ambulance coming to a halt on the other side of the parking garage, the dead bodies of his three deputies on each of his sides, but he didn't see what he was looking for. John's panicked gaze took another sweep around but still he didn't see his son anywhere.

"Stiles." He exhaled brokenly as a feeling of cold fright crashed over him. With difficulty John brought himself to an unsteady seated position, ignoring the way the room tilted dangerously, and started to climb to his feet.

"Whoa there, Sheriff! You've got a pretty nasty knock on your head, and you need to stay still while we help you." One of the paramedics said in a rush as he gripped John's shoulder, effectively preventing him from rising.

"My…my son. I need to find…my son."

* * *

Stiles tried once more to wiggle his wrists loose from his father's handcuffs. The teen hissed almost silently as the cold metal bit into his pale flesh.

So engrossed with his task the young man startled when Peter's voice suddenly sounded. "You know, all you're going to accomplish is hurting yourself, Stiles."

The teen huffed in frustration, slouching in his seats as he inspected the abused skin on his wrist. "Screw you! If you thought I was just going to sit here and be a complacent hostage than you really didn't think this whole thing through."

"Stiles, I called help for your father. Don't make me regret not just ripping his throat out." Peter spoke in a clearly exasperated voice, rubbing his forehead as if to ease away an impending headache.

Not someone that likes to back-down Stiles glared at the alpha werewolf. "Am I supposed to thank you for knocking my dad unconscious? Gee thanks Peter for not brutally murdering my father. Let's be best friends." He threw back sarcastically.

Peter's hand snapped out to catch Stiles' jaw in a bruising grip. His eyes flaring red with fury. "You are infuriating. Did you know that? I'm starting to think I should just kill you and be done with it. Do you have any thoughts on that?"

The cornered teen uselessly brought his bound hands to the werewolf's wrist and tried to dislodge Peter's unrelenting hold. "If you're taking votes: I can't say I would be for killing me." Stiles answered back, voice unsteady, before swallowing nervously.

Peter smirked before releasing Stiles roughly. The teen's head knocked onto the car window with the force of it, creating a dull thud noise. "You're incredibly lucky that I still need you if I'm to get Scott and Derek in my pack willingly."

Stiles' deep honey-colored eyes looked at his captor in fearful unease, and asked in a shaking voice. "What are you planning to do?"

* * *

Analyzing pale green eyes observed the young strawberry-blond in the hospital bed, her mother sitting at her side, clutching her daughter's hand like a lifeline. A wave of sadness hit the man, knowing that if the girl survived she would become a monster that would most likely need to be dealt with. Chris Argent pulled his gaze from the unconscious young woman and continued looking for the reason for his trip to the hospital, thankful that he told his sister to get Allison out-of-town.

Only after a moment of searching the hunter spotted Jackson walking around the corner. The teen's dress shirt was rumbled with the first few buttons undone. After a quick nod to the two men behind him Chris moved swift to cut Jackson off. "Jackson, not quite the person I was looking for but-"

The teen looked up from the ground with Chris' words and his face paled. Taking a couple of steps backwards he lifted his hands like shield in front of himself. "Wh- what are you doing here?"

The older man stood calming just out-of-reach of the anxious teen. "Well Jackson, since you've already been such a large help to us. I thought maybe you could help us out again. Do you know where I can find Stiles Stilinski?"

Jackson's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Why do you want Stilinski?"

"We just need to talk to him. I thought he might be here because of the Martin girl-" The hunter motioned towards Lydia's room with a wave of his hand. "But he's not. Where and when was the last time you saw him?"

The wealthy young man began looking side to side, trying to find an escape as he mumbled, "I…uh…."

The werewolf hunter's face turned from a friendly expression to a much more dangerous one with Jackson's words. Nodding his head slightly to himself Chris cautiously made sure no one else was in the hallway with them. "Why don't we go somewhere with a bit more privacy?"

Unable to stop them Jackson was dragged to the first empty hospital room and tossed inside. Turning around in a rush Jackson watched as Chris started towards him while his two goons spread out guarding each side of the room. "Now let's try this again. Where is Stiles Stilinski?"

The young teen squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "My father is a lawyer and you all just set yourselves up for an easy assault case. Now move out-of-my-way or I'll call the cops. It shouldn't take them long since this place is crawling with them."

Chris Argent smiled, and just as Jackson tried to leave stopped him with the palm of his hand against the teen's chest. "Jackson, I really don't think you have any idea of who you're dealing with here. It would be in your best interest to help us out." He reasoned.

"Look I honestly have no idea where he is!"

"Alright where was the last place you saw him?" Chris urged. His hand now holding the front of Jackson's shirt in a tight grip to prevent the boy from moving away.

Jackson looked down in defeat. "The last place I saw Stiles was at the dance with Lydia."

Chris narrowed his eyes and tilted his head closer to Jackson. "You're not telling me everything."

"Fine! He called me…told me that Lydia was hurt on the lacrosse field and that I had to come help her. Then the line was cut. When I made it to the field all I saw was Lydia…no Stiles." Jackson said in a frantic voice.

"Why are you looking for my son?!" Sheriff Stilinski suddenly growled from the doorway. His head now adorned with a white bandage, leaning heavily on the door-frame.

Argent released his hold on Jackson and turned around to face the sheriff. "Sheriff Stilinski, I can assure you it's nothing to worry about. I just need to speak with your son for a moment about my daughter, Allison. Do you know where I can find him?" The hunter's voice oozed innocence but the Sheriff knew better.

John's tired eyes roamed over the man, suspiciously. "No...I don't seem to know a lot of things around here anymore, but you...you always seem to know much more than you're letting on."

Chris' smile faltered as his mind began evaluating the many possible scenarios that could come from this conversation. "I'm sorry Sheriff, but I'm not quite sure what you mean. Excuse me." The werewolf hunter said calming and walked towards the door as if the leave only to have the sheriff step into his way.

"No! You are **not** leaving this room until I get some answers. My son has been abducted by an unhinged, unbelievably healed coma patient, with glowing red eyes! Now you are going to tell me everything you know or I will arrest you!"

"Did you say **red** eyes?" Chris Argent cocked his head. His interest clearly piqued.

The sheriff brought a shaking hand to his head where his injury was located and leaned back against the door-frame once more. "Yeah…yeah I did. Now considering you're not laughing in my face or looking at me like I'm crazy. I'm going to say you have some idea of what's going on. Tell me what you know."

Chris contemplated telling the sheriff. On one hand having law enforcement on their side could be very beneficial. However, if he were to side with the wolves things would instantly get much more complicated in Beacon Hills. "It's not easily believed, Sheriff. It's probably a better idea for you to just let me handle this."

"This is my son…I'm not asking again." John stated with conviction.

"Well let me ask you this, Sheriff. Have you ever seen a rabid dog?"

John's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What the Hell does a rabid dog have to do with anything?!"

"More than you would want to believe. This man that took your son has much in common with a rabid dog. He is the kind of creature that is too dangerous to be left to their own devices, and should be put down the moment they step out-of-line."

"What are you saying?! This is a person we're talking about not some out-of-control animal! He needs to be arrested for sure but killing him…well that would be considered murder in my book."

Chris held his ground. "That's just it, Sheriff. He is an animal. As you described, he was stronger and faster than humanly possible. He had glowing red eyes. Those are not traits of a human."

John's mind began filling with all the odd details from his encounter with Peter Hale in that parking garage. He thought of the weird things he said about his favorite smell or hearing Stiles heartbeat. The sheriff thought of the way his son was trying to protect him; how he kept saying that he didn't understand the danger. Closing his eyes as all the memories crashed over him of the weird way Stiles has been acting since the start of school, as if something was hidden between them.

Chris Argent's voice broken the injured man from his multitude of thoughts. "John, you said it yourself. You knew something else was going on here and you thought I could help you with it. So let me."

"What is he? Some type of genetic experiment? A vampire?" John asked quietly. His throat suddenly much dryer than before.

"No. He's an Alpha werewolf, and responsible for all the recent deaths in town."

The sheriff ran his hands through his hair and huffed a desperate laugh with the absurdity of the situation. "Werewolf…right. Why didn't I think of that?! Wait? We mean all the deaths connected to the Hale Fire? That might actually make some amount of sense. Peter Hale would obviously want revenge for what happened to his family."

The hunter's eyebrows lifted with curiosity at this new information. "Peter Hale is the Alpha? That's interesting. We never really knew what to expect with a werewolf injured so greatly they fell into a coma."

John eyed the hunter. "When my son is safe we're going to have a very long discussion about all of this and how you fit in it. As it is, all I want is to find my son, safe and alive. And I have an idea about that."

"Do tell."

"Well I have a lead on who may have orchestrated the whole fire. It's a bit of a long-shot, but if we can find this woman we might be able to cut Peter off before he gets to her."

A sinking feeling settled in Chris' stomach. "What woman?"

The sheriff looked around the room at the extra people standing around them, but decide to reveal the information anyway. Maybe he would get lucky and the info will strike a chord with one of them. "I have a witness that indicates a young woman was the one responsible. The only thing I know is she was younger when the fire happened, described as very beautiful, wearing a unique family pendant around her neck."

Chris swallowed and clenched his jaw, breathing deeply before speaking. "I...I think know who that is."

* * *

The drive to the remnants of the Hale house was filled with tense silence as Chris drove with white knuckles, John sulking in the passenger seat. It was not easy convincing the sheriff he wasn't in any condition to drive with the nasty head wound he'd suffered. In the end, logic did win when Chris pointed out they could continue arguing or they could go save his son. Even then John only relented after the werewolf hunter tossed his keys to him just to have them fly passed his outstretched hand. After blinking rapidly to clear his double-vision the stubborn sheriff conceded he wasn't in the best shape for driving, and with a wave of his hand indicated Chris lead the way.

Cautiously, the pair made their way, guns drawn, towards the skeleton of a house. But what they saw as the house came into view was nothing like what they expected. Derek Hale lay on the ground motionless with several bullet wounds still lazily seeping blood. A dark-haired girl looked on in horror as a tall light-haired woman stood towering over a figure, aiming a pistol meant for death.

The sheriff squinted his eyes, hoping to see the person being threatened better, steps faltering when he recognized it to be Scott. The very same boy who has been best friends with his son almost their whole lives. Someone he personally thought of as a second son was being held at gunpoint. Without a thought, John started forward, but was halted by a strong grip on his forearm.

Gaze snapping to the side the sheriff watched as Chris released his hold on his arm and moved forward with purpose. Calling out, "Kate!"

The woman turned her head sharply in surprise, but her aim never moved, not even an inch, from its position pointing directly at Scott's head.

"I know what you did. Put the gun down." Chris' voice was steady as was his pistol, aiming coolly at his own sister.

"I did what I was told to do." She snapped back.

Chris shook his head in disagreement. "No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house, ones who were human. Look what you're doing now."

Kate turned her cold eyes to Scott as her brother continued to speak with conviction. "You're holding a gun at a sixteen year old boy with no proof he spilled human blood."

John watched the exchange between siblings with taut shoulders, readying himself for the possibility of a fight. The sheriff almost brought his weapon's aim to Chris when the hunter suddenly pulled his trigger, shooting the tree just to the side of Kate. But thankfully the warning shot seemed to do the trick as Kate slowly lowered her weapon. Posture taking on a less lethal stance.

John didn't wait for the unstable woman to change her mind and moved swiftly to Scott's side. Carefully, the sheriff helped the young man to his feet. "Are you alright, Son?" He asked in concern.

Before Scott had a chance to answer the door to the Hale house opened slowly with an ominous creaking.

"Allison get back." Chris ordered forcefully, reaching out for his daughter with one hand.

The dark-haired girl stumbled slightly as she moved behind the three adults wielding guns. Her worried eyes glued to the dark opened doorway, heart hammering in her chest. "What is it?" Allison asked with fear laced through her voice.

Golden eyes glowing, Scott answered from next to John. "It's the alpha."

* * *

One more chapter to go! Please review to let me know what you thought. Reviews make me happy, which helps me write faster! Any thoughts on what will happen in the final chapter? Until next time…


	3. Chapter 3

Here we are, sadly, at the end of my 'what if' storyline. Thank you to everyone who supported me and this story! By reading, reviewing, and adding One Choice as well as me as an author to your favorite/alert lists you have truly made writing for this fandom a wonderful experience. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Three

An anxious silence blanketed the forest as everyone stood waiting for something…anything to happen. They didn't have to wait long as a dark chuckling sounded from just inside the burnt house.

"Very good, Scott. I'm glad to see you're learning." Slowly the alpha werewolf sauntered into view.

Immediately each weapon took steady aim, Scott growled lowly with claws and fangs extended, but all Peter did in response to being threatened was tsk in disappointment. "Now none of that. Unless of course you don't mind taking away the last of our dear sheriff's family. Hello again by the way."

Scott looked between his best friend's dad and the malicious alpha werewolf in clear confusion. An overwhelmingly strong feeling of worry and rage suddenly assaulting his senses.

"Where the Hell is my son!" John yelled in an anger-filled fear.

Scott felt his stomach drop and a cold sensation wash over him. "Stiles? Wh…what?"

But Scott's whispering voice was lost in the confrontation happening as the sheriff continued unimpeded. "If you've hurt him I swear to God I will make you suffer. I don't care what you are. I will make your death as painful as it can be for a werewolf."

Peter, completely unaffected by the threat, picked at a nonexistent piece of lint on his shoulder. "Relax Sheriff. What would I gain by hurting or killing your son? I may make him a werewolf when this avenging business is over with. But hurt him? No more than necessary."

"Why are we even listening to any of this, Chris?!" Kate snapped tightening her hold on the pistol in her hand. "Time to be rid of the rouge alpha once-and-for-all."

Peter's gaze shifted to Kate and a predatory smile stretched across his features. "Hello there, Kate. I am so very glad you could join us. I must say I'm not at all surprised that you would choose to sacrifice young Stilinski for your own agenda."

Scott moved forward desperately. "No one is sacrificing anyone!"

"What do you want, Peter?" Derek's strained voice unexpectedly added to the group.

"Ah Derek! Excellent! I had hoped you wouldn't miss this."

Derek pressed his hand against the still healing bullet wound in his chest and glared at his uncle. "You didn't answer my question." He growled.

Peter sucked in a slow almost savoring breath. "That's right. You've grown attached to our young friend Stiles as well. I would have thought you of all people would realize just how much of a weakness personal attachments can be."

"Oh screw this!" Kate exclaimed and started shooting at Peter with wolfsbane bullets.

The sheriff shouted, "NO!" At the same time as Scott called out, "WAIT!" But Kate didn't listen to either of them. She just continued trying to hit Peter with a wide manic smile on her face.

Her smile slipped away quickly as the alpha lunged at the group faster than expected and began knocking each person to the ground with his speed.

Chris and John shot at the furry blur, but hit nothing before being thrown aside by the unstoppable force. Allison screamed for her dad, dropping heavily by his side. Derek snarled and leapt for his uncle only to be thrown carelessly into a nearby tree.

Scott watched the chaos unfold in utter horror. His chest felt uncomfortably tight while his mind raced with panicked thoughts. He had no idea what to do. No idea how to fix this and save the people he cared about. Never in his life had Scott felt so incredibly hopeless. To drive his thoughts home, Scott found himself on the ground right next to the sheriff before he could do anything, as Allison screamed.

Pulling himself to his feet Scott's heart seized at the sight that greeted him. Peter was standing in front of the Hale house holding Allison by the throat. Little trails of red blood slid down the side of her pale neck as the werewolf's claws punctured slightly into her fragile skin.

"Not another step, Kate. I don't think you want your niece's death on your head."

Kate's deliberate steps halted abruptly. "Not to lack ingenuity, but what do you want?"

Peter glanced at Allison for a moment before returning his attention to the person responsible for his family's murder. "She is beautiful, Kate. She looks like you. Probably not as damaged. So I'm going to give you a chance to save her."

Kate's calculating eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Apologize. Say that you're sorry for decimating my family…for leaving me burned and broken for six years." Peter started out in a light voice, but ended in a hiss.

Kate swallowed and steadily brought her eyes to connect with her terrified niece's.

"Say it…and I'll let her live."

The female hunter could see Allison pleading to save her silently, tears building in her deep-brown eyes. So with a shaky voice Kate said, "I'm sorry."

"I don't know about you, Allison, but that apology…didn't sound very sincere."

A loud bang echoed throughout the trees surrounding the small group as a bullet ripped through an exposed spot on Peter's upper chest, causing the werewolf to release his hold, and stumble backwards. John clenched his teeth, lowered his smoking weapon, and squared his shoulders. The sheriff of Beacon Hills stood his ground even as the severely pissed off alpha sent him a red-eyed glare of rage.

Scott lunged forward as soon as Allison was released and caught her before she fell. Holding her close, Scott's warm brown eyes swept over the clearly shaken girl, looking for injuries. His concerned gaze halted over the small cuts on her neck, transfixed, he stared as the weight of what just happened crashed over the teen. Allison had been only a sudden movement away from being killed. His best friend was taken by the same person who almost murder the girl he was in love with, and was still missing. Who knows what Peter could have done to him…or could still do to him. All of this, what was happening, was his fault. Peter wanted him in his pack. There was no other reason he would take Stiles. If he just hadn't been bitten in the first place his loved ones would never have even been on Peter's radar.

Scott was brought out of his thoughts of guilt by Allison shrieking, "Aunt Kate!"

The young and inexperienced werewolf's eyes caught the sight of Kate Argent falling heavily to the hard earth with deep gashes slashed across her throat. Her lifeless gaze boring into Scott, almost accusingly.

Allison pulled herself from Scott's strong arms and ran to her Aunt's side, uselessly trying to help her, while Scott searched the area desperately for Peter.

In the time between heartbeats Scott found the alpha that ruined his life, holding his best friend's father by the throat. John was struggling without success to break free.

"For that little stunt I will kill your son…slowly." Peter snarled in the sheriff's face. "Or maybe I'll bite him, turn him into a killer like me, and make him rip your throat out."

Scott's heart pounded painfully in his chest. He couldn't let anyone else die, especially not Stiles' dad. He would never forgive himself if he let his best friend's father die right in front of him. By chance, the teenage werewolf caught sight of Allison's bow sitting in the dirt and leaves. Snatching the object up, he quickly threw the bow to Allison and jumped to him feet, calling out to her. "Allison!"

The young archer knew what she needed to do and swiftly nocked an arrow before pulling the string back and aiming. The black arrow flew smoothly through the air and sunk deeply into the alpha's arm holding Sheriff Stilinski by the throat. Dropping his prey, Peter turned sharply at the young huntress.

Using the distraction, Scott barreled into Peter's middle with all the force he could muster and brought them both to the ground. The two rolled down a slight hillside each struggling for the upper hand the whole way.

Peter used his superior strength to knock Scott away, and without hesitation positioned himself on top of the teenager, holding him down forcefully. Bringing his claws up to strike a killing blow Peter said regretfully. "You have thoroughly disappointed me, Scott. I gave you a gift anyone would kill for, and this is how you repay me. Maybe Stiles will be more appreciative."

Knowing this was the end, and that he was going to die. Scott squeezed his eyes shut, but instead of pain the only thing the young werewolf felt was the crushing weight above him disappear suddenly. Blinking in confusion Scott sat up to see Derek and Peter fighting viciously next to him.

Scott leapt to him feet and began fighting with Derek against his uncle. The three were slashing and punching, kicking, and throwing each other violently. It was completely surreal for the teen who never in his life would have imagined he would be in an all-in-out fight with an alpha werewolf. It wasn't like in the movies. It was dirty and chaotic with absolutely no time to think of what to do. Every movement was fueled by instinct…an instinct to survive. There was no pain from his wounds, only a buzz of adrenaline numbing his body against the tiring of limbs, keeping him going.

Scott saw it only a millisecond before Derek. Peter found an opening in Derek's defense and exploited it, striking his nephew powerfully. The oldest surviving Hale dug his claws deep into his nephew's side, prompting a loud cry of pain from the young dark-haired man.

Only thinking about no one else getting hurt. Scott lunged wildly at Peter and slashed his claw across the alpha throat unexpectedly. Peter gasped in shock, and dropped to the ground dead. The red of the alpha's eyes dimmed to nothingness as the golden glow in Scott's eyes burned to a bright red.

"NOOO!" The sheriff cried out in anguish. John dropped next to the dead werewolf, trembling hands hovering over the body, as his panicked-ridden voice whispered desperately. "No…no…no. Where…where's my son? Stiles….where are you keeping Stiles?!"

John looked up and around at the people surrounding him, pleadingly. "How are we going to find Stiles?" The sheriff's voice broke over his son's name.

Scott sucked in a sharp breath. He had never seen the sheriff look so utterly lost before. He was always the person who knew what to do, or how to fix any problem. John wasn't someone that panicked easily, always the stable force in Scott and Stiles' lives, and seeing him in this way intensified the teen's fear immensely, as well as his guilt. "I'm sorry…I…he- he was going to kill Derek. I just didn't want anyone else to get killed."

Derek knelt down next to the pair. "We'll find him, Sheriff."

"And how are we supposed to do that?!" John snapped, "Peter was the only one who knew where Stiles is...and now he's dead."

Derek's voice was calm and sure when he answered back. "Scott can find him."

The brown-haired teenage werewolf had a look of complete panic flash across his face. "What?! How? I don't…I can't."

Steady hazel eyes connected with frantic brown ones. "Scott, you're an alpha now. You have much more power than you did only moments ago. And you know Stiles. You've known him almost your whole life. So close your eyes, and listen. Listen to your senses. Peter would have wanted to keep him close. He has to be around here. Find his scent, his heartbeat, his voice, just find anything."

Scott shook his head slightly. "I…I don't think I can do this. I can barely stop myself from going full on psycho when there's a full moon out. I have no idea what I'm doing! I can't have my best friend's life in my hands!"

"Scott, I've known you since you were a little kid, and I've watched you grow up into an incredible young man. I've seen you accomplished so much already. And I know how much you care about Stiles. You can do this." John encouraged gently.

Scott's sight blurred with the gathering of tears, but he blinked them away. Taking a calming breath the young alpha concentrated all of his energy and senses into finding anything that would lead them to Stiles. It was as John placed a comforting hand on his shoulder that Scott found something. It was a whisper of a racing heartbeat. Focusing further, Scott could feel a familiar energetic energy and he knew without a doubt it was Stiles.

Without a word to his companions Scott stood from his place on the ground and made his way towards his best friend. The closer he got however, the more overwhelmed the new alpha was with his friend's emotions. He could tell Stiles was terrified and in pain. Not liking how his friend, no his brother, was feeling, Scott pushed on faster. He couldn't find it in himself to even care if the swift pace was too fast for the humans in the small rescue group. Scott just needed to find Stiles immediately.

The young alpha slammed to a halt and felt his heart sink. He was sure Stiles should be right in front of him, but there was nothing but forest. "He should be here. I feel him. He should be right here!"

Derek stepped up beside him and to Scott surprise the humans following were not much farther behind. "Relax, Scott I think you're right. My family had a shelter out this way."

"What kind of shelter?" The sheriff asked completely out-of-breath.

Derek began searching the ground around them. "It was like a bomb-shelter. We used it to hold rouge and dangerous werewolves that came into town until they could either be reasoned with or dealt with. It was Peter's idea to have one made, but my mother always hated the thing. She would never use it. Here!"

Derek dropped to the ground and moving away loose leaves uncovered a metal door in the dirt. Without prompting, Derek yanked the door open with some resistance. The door's hinges squealed with disuse, but once it was open a dark set of stairs was revealed.

Chris pulled his pistol free, clicking on his flashlight, and shrugged when the sheriff sent him a murderous look. "Can't be too careful."

John took the man's flashlight and started down the stairs with caution. The heels of his department issues shoes clacked against the concert floor, creating the only sound in the otherwise silent basement-like shelter. Unable to stop himself the sheriff called out tentatively. "Stiles?"

A sharp intake of breath bounced off the walls from the opposite side of the shelter followed by a shaky voice. "D-dad?"

John flicked the flashlight's beam in the direction of the voice and cried out in relief at seeing his son alive. The sheriff rushed to his son's side and crushed him in a fierce embrace, pulling back abruptly when Stiles hissed in pain.

"Where are you hurt?" John asked in a rush. His fatherly instincts to protect kicking in full force.

Stiles smiled and huffed a laugh. "I'm fine, Dad. Really. It's probably a couple of broken ribs or something, but considering everything that could have happened...I'm good."

The sheriff immediately worked on unlocking his handcuffs secured around a thick metal bar above his son's head, holding Stiles in place. As soon as the cuffs opened Stiles' arms dropped heavily into his lap. The movement extracting a sound of pain through the teen's clenched teeth.

John placed a warm comforting hand on his son's cheek and looked him directly in his slightly unfocused honey-colored eyes. "Yeah. I guess considering you were kidnapped by an alpha werewolf things could definitely have been worse."

Stiles gawked at his father, while easily accepting his help standing. "Looks like we'll be having a long discussion when we get home, huh?"

John laughed. "Hospital first. Then a **very** long discussion."

* * *

Aww I love Stilinski family feels! I'm sad to say: tis the end of this story. Please review to let me know what you thought of One Choice. Did you like the ripple effects that one different decision created? I've got a Stydia story in mind that I hope to get going on soon! If you'd be interested in reading a future fic where Stiles and Lydia are married and in danger let me know in your review! Thanks again for reading! Until next time...


End file.
